


Voices

by simpleandpure22



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5125784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpleandpure22/pseuds/simpleandpure22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonas hopes he’ll get a chance to play against Bremen. Well, not starting. Even he’s not that naïve to hope that he’ll start over the four, when they’re all fit to play. But playing as a sub should be possible. He is good enough for that.</p><p><i>Are you?</i> </p><p>Jonas’s eyes snap open. There it is again. A voice in his head, telling himself that he’s probably not as good as he thinks he is. Because if he is, why is he playing less and less? Jonas has tried to ignore it, but it’s getting louder and louder lately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voices

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iwontgiveup09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwontgiveup09/gifts).



> Dear Iwontgiveup09 this is for you, because you love Jonas as much as I do :) This is probably not as fluffy as you initially wanted, but I hope you'll like it anyway.

Jonas opens the door and enters the empty changing room. Everyone else is still on the pitch, and he is the first one reaching the room after the training session. After taking a towel from his locker, he walks to the bathroom, starting the shower. A gasp escapes his lips as the cold water touches his skin. _Idiot._ Of course the water is cold; he didn’t wait until the water got warmer. Brushing some wet hair from his eyes, Jonas steps back until he feels that the water is hot enough.

The events from training flash in his mind as he closes his eyes, enjoying the hot water on his skin. The match training went well; he scored and assisted some goals. He hopes he’ll get a chance to play against Bremen. Well, not starting. Even he’s not that naïve to hope that he’ll start over the four, when they’re all fit to play. But playing as a sub should be possible. He is good enough for that.

_Are you?_

Jonas’s eyes snap open. There it is again. A voice in his head, telling himself that he’s probably not as good as he thinks he is. Because if he is, why is he playing less and less? Jonas has tried to ignore it, but it’s getting louder and louder lately.

No. He is good enough. There must be an explanation why Tuchel chose the others over him. That’s what Jonas wants to believe, but the voice in his head has cast doubt on that. _Oh, you know what_ , fuck it. He abruptly turns off the shower and grabs his towel. When he came back from the loan, this isn’t what he expected. Especially now that his knee is really close to be back to normal.

When he’s about to put a shirt on, a few of his teammates enter the room. Marco jokes that Jonas has jumpstarted them. Jonas smiles at him and says that if he wasn’t busy trying to hide Auba’s bottle, he’d be able to shower earlier, too. Marco chuckles and heads to his locker. After telling the others that he’ll see them tomorrow, Jonas takes his backpack from the bench and leaves the room.

Instead of going to the car park, he walks towards the fitness room, slowly opening the door. Only Erik is inside, sitting near the barbells, and Andi is nowhere in sight. The blond smiles as soon as he sees Jonas. “Hey,” Erik says.

“Where is Andi?” Jonas asks, walking closer. “Are you not done yet?”

Erik shakes his head. “Andi went to retrieve some papers, and I still have two more sessions. You’re done with training, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to wait for me, Jonas. Just go home,” Erik tells him softly. “This is why we’re driving our own cars, so we don’t have to wait for each other.”

He’s right, but Jonas doesn’t mind to wait. “It’s okay for me to wait,” he says, but Erik once again shakes his head.

“Go home. Your training will start early tomorrow, whilst I don’t have any,” the blond insists.

Jonas finally relents. He nods. “Okay. I’ll see you at home.”

He’s only moved for one step when he hears Erik say, “Is everything fine? The training went okay?” Jonas turns around to face him again.

“Yeah, it was fine,” he says, with a shrug. “We were playing football tennis. It was really fun.”

Erik’s eyes light up as he smiles. “I remember that it was fun.” Jonas knows he’s thinking of that time in Bad Ragaz when they played that game. “Although we totally sucked.”

“We did,” Jonas says, laughing. Then he notices that Erik is watching him.

“Everything is really okay, right?” Erik asks again, sounding somewhat concerned.

Jonas smiles at him, reaching out to stroke his shoulder. “Of course. Why shouldn’t it be? Just focus on your training, okay. See you at home.” After a second of hesitation, Erik nods. Jonas brushes his hand on his boyfriend’s cheek and then walks away. They always try to restrain themselves when they are in public, with as minimal physical contact as possible, although their trainers and teammates know about their relationship.

He’s pretty exhausted, and as soon as he reaches his car, Jonas unlocks it and climbs inside. He longs for some food and then a good night sleep, and hopefully Erik won’t be home late. Tomorrow they will announce the squad for the match against Bremen, and although Jonas tells himself that there’s no reason to worry, he can’t help it.

 _Of course you’ll be going. You didn’t play in the last two matches and you did well in trainings,_ the reassuring voice in his head says. And then of course the other one, the less pleasant one counters, _but_ _there’s still a possibility that you won’t._

Jonas takes a deep breath to compose himself. This is nothing. They are just inside his head. He starts the car and begins to drive.

~*~

The next day when Tuchel is announcing the players who aren’t going to Bremen, Jonas’s heart beats uncontrollably. He has felt nervous all morning, despite not showing it. He shouldn’t be this nervous. Surely what he has done in the last trainings should be enough for him to be in the squad, right? But the nagging voice in his head keeps telling him that he must not be so sure.

“Three of you won’t be going, besides Nuri and Erik,” Tuchel starts, looking around. “Neven, Moritz,” he pauses, his eyes meet Jonas’s. “And Hoffi. Sorry guys, I can’t include you in the squad this time.”

Jonas’s heart sinks. So, everything he did in trainings meant nothing. He still didn’t make the squad. But he quickly gets himself together and forces a faint smile to Marco, who looks at him sympathetically. He’ll be fine. It’s just one game, no big deal.

_One of the three games you didn’t and wouldn’t play._

Jonas doesn’t even bother to fight it. And this time, the reassuring voice in his head has nothing to say.

~*~

Erik is sitting on the couch in the living room when Jonas enters the flat. His smile freeze as he sees Jonas. “Why are you so wet? Don’t you have any umbrella in the car?” he asks immediately. It’s raining heavily outside, and although Jonas had tried to run, he still got wet.

“No, I forgot to put it back in the car after drying it,” Jonas replies. “I’ll go change.” He strides to the washing room and takes off his wet jacket, and then dries his damp hair with a towel.

From behind him, he hears Erik say, “You should start packing for Bremen.” His heart clenches once again, for what must have been the tenth time today; whenever he heard his teammates talk about the match.

Erik appears in the doorway. “I’ve put your suitcase on the bed.”

Jonas looks at him and says, “There’s no need; I’m not going. I’m not in the squad.”

“What? I’m—sorry to hear that,” Erik says after a second of silence. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jonas replies quickly, a bit too quickly. “It’s just one game. Have you eaten yet? I’m famished.” Erik slowly shakes his head, his eyes never leave Jonas’s face. Jonas says that they should eat now.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Erik still tries.

Smiling at him, Jonas says, “I’m fine. Let’s just eat.” Erik looks at him for a moment before finally nodding. And they don’t talk about it again for the rest of the evening.

~*~

The next day, Jonas stays at home, since he won’t be going to Bremen. Erik was rather quiet in the morning, but Jonas thought that he might think about his recovery, so he didn’t say anything about it. He is just done with the laundry when Erik opens the front door.

“How was the training?” Jonas asks as he sees Erik take off his jacket.

Erik doesn’t reply. He merely looks at Jonas, and the way he looks at him somehow makes Jonas feel uneasy. Something doesn’t feel right. “Is something wrong?” he asks again, desperately hoping that it has nothing to do with Erik’s injury. “Does your knee hurt again?”

Shaking his head, Erik still says nothing. Jonas breathes in relief, although it doesn’t explain Erik’s behaviour, but at least his knee is not getting worse. “Then what’s wrong, Erik? Tell me.”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Jonas doesn’t understand what he means. He opens his mouth to say something, but Erik raises his hand to stop him. “Stop telling me you’re fine. I know you’re not. Why do you keep doing this to me?” When Jonas doesn’t answer, Erik says again, barely above a whisper, “I’m tired, Jonas.”

The room feels very quiet, too quiet, as neither of them speaks. The sadness in Erik’s eyes makes Jonas’s heart ache, but he still doesn’t know what to say. After a while, Erik begins to move. “I’m going to Mainz. I’ll leave in ten minutes,” the blond says as he walks towards their bedroom.

“You’re going to Mainz?” Jonas finally finds his voice again.

“Yeah, I don’t have training for the next three days, and Mainz II will be playing on Sunday,” Erik replies curtly, stopping on his tracks. “Do you mind?”

Jonas looks at him. Yes. He minds. He would rather have Erik here with him. _This is your own fault. You’re driving him away_. Yeah, it is, but he’s not going to stop Erik if this is what he wants. So, Jonas shakes his head, suppressing the urge to grab Erik’s hand, asking him not to go.

_He might not come back._

No, he will. Stop it!

“Fine,” Erik says and then continues to walk in fast steps, entering the bedroom.

Jonas is still standing there, in the middle of the room, for he doesn’t know how long until Erik reappears with a duffel bag on his hand. “I’m leaving now.”

“Take care,” is all Jonas can say. Erik looks at him for a second before striding towards the door. As soon as the door is closed behind him, Jonas takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling drained. He walks to the sofa and flops down, burying his face in his hands.

How did everything become such a mess? Only a few months ago he was happy to be back, and he and Erik were finally together, after years of trying to suppress their feelings for each other. Now it felt like such a long time ago that he was truly happy. That _they_ were happy.

He jumps in surprise as he hears someone open the door. Erik rushes inside, carelessly dropping his bag on the floor. And before Jonas can do anything, Erik is already standing in front of him.

“Why are you doing this to me, Jonas? Why don’t you just let me in?” Erik asks, sounding desperate.

Jonas looks up at him, slowly shaking his head. “I don’t want you to worry about me,” he says in a broken murmur. “You should just focus on your recovery. I’m—I’ll be fine. Getting back to the pitch again is everything.”

“But you are everything to me,” Erik raises his voice. “Can’t you see that? Stop pushing me away.” He drops down on the couch next to Jonas, pulling him into his arms. “Please.”

Jonas’s feeling finally gets the better of him. He wraps his arms around Erik as he squeezes his eyes shut, letting all the emotions from the past few weeks break free. The disappointment, the inadequacy, and the necessity to get himself together because he thought that was the only thing he could do. Because he didn’t want people to pity him. Didn’t want _Erik_ to pity him.

When he opens his eyes again, the tears are blurring his vision. He clutches on the back of Erik’s shirt, like a drowning man clutching a life ring. “Please, don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Erik whispers softly.

“I don’t want to doubt that I’m good enough to be here. But it’s getting harder,” Jonas says. “It feels like I’ve done everything I could, and still it wasn’t enough.”

Erik lifts a hand and strokes his hair. “I’m sorry to hear that. Sometimes the circumstances are just not right, and those aren’t something we can control. But don’t ever doubt that you are good enough, Jonas.”

“Thank you,” Jonas says, with a gentle nod. They stay like that for a while, until Erik softly suggests that they go out for some fresh air. Jonas says yes, and they both stand up, walking towards the coat rack.

He is good enough. He will keep proving that, it has to pay off in the end somehow. And as they leave the flat, Jonas notices that for the first time in a long time, the sinister voice in his head doesn’t say anything against it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is how I picture Jonas in my head. Keeping everything inside, always putting up a smile to the world, not letting the vulnerability show. It's also slightly inspired by my previous work "The Joker".
> 
> I hope you like this. If you're masochistic like me, that is ;)


End file.
